Brian watched Neff’s expression as he spoke, noting that Neff’s eyes never departed from Cal’s face. Brian could tell Neff was trying to get a read on the man’s mental state. His mind drifted back to Becky, and a wave of alarm swept over him.
“Sorry,” Cal said sincerely to Brian, then looked out over the small group, indicating to everyone that they were included in the apology. He turned his focus back to Brian. “First, thank you for doing what you did. From what Graham and the others have told me, the guy probably would have killed me.”
“You’re welcome,” Brian replied, feeling a bit relieved but still absorbed with curiosity. “What did the Colonel want us to know? I’m sure it’s a threat of some kind.”
“Actually,” Cal said slowly, “I’m not sure what to think.” He looked around at the faces. “I’ve never seen anything like it my life. I hope you can tell me who … or maybe what … this Colonel really is.”
69
The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.
—H. P. Lovecraft
“The Colonel wanted you all to see something.” Cal reached into his pocket, then paused. Brian could tell that he was fingering something inside his coat, making sure it was there. “He also wanted me to tell you how I got it.”
Cal pulled out a clear plastic baggie. Everyone instinctively crowded in to see.
“What the—” Ward squinted. Madison covered her mouth and turned away. Nili gasped and instinctively moved in front of Summit to block her view. Cal tried to hand it to Brian, but Brian could only gawk in appalled disbelief.
“It’s a thumb,” Cal said, gesturing with the baggie toward Brian. “His thumb. He wanted you to have it. He said you’d figure it out.”
Brian gingerly took the baggie. “This is the Colonel’s thumb?”
“Yeah,” Cal said tensely. “I saw him cut it off … right in front of me. After I hung up the phone, I saw he’d picked up a scalpel. I thought he was going to stab me. Instead he looked right at me and told me to watch. He just sliced off his thumb like you’d cut a carrot. He took it off in one, fluid motion. He never said a word … never flinched. And he didn’t bleed.”
“What do you mean?” gasped Clarise.
“There’s no other way to say it—he didn’t bleed. You can look at it yourself, put it under a scope. There’s no blood. Not a drop. He just snickered and said it would grow back.”
“Grow … back?” Nili had trouble even saying it.
“Let me see that,” Clarise said urgently. Brian handed her the baggie. She examined it closely, turning it in her hand a few times. Skin tone, body hair, cuticles—it looked completely normal … too normal.
“You noticed the obvious, too, huh?” Cal asked.
“Why hasn’t there been any degradation?” Clarise asked, looking somewhat alarmed. “Did you freeze it? Formaldehyde?”
“I haven’t done a thing to it except carry it around. I put it in a baggie at the first safe house. It looks exactly like it did the moment he chopped it off. I didn’t have any equipment to investigate it further.”
“Well I do,” she said. “Want to join me in the lab?”
“Absolutely.” He hesitated. “Give me a bit, though.”
“What else?” Neff demanded. Brian could see his own disdain for the Colonel was becoming contagious.
“I’m okay,” Cal answered in an unconvincing tone. “I’d like to grab something to eat and then take a nap.”
“We understand. It’s been a rough week for you.”
“Yeah.”
Neff watched as Fern took Cal by his other arm and led him and Madison toward the kitchen. He looked at Brian but said nothing.
“The Colonel would scare anybody,” Brian offered, “especially that stunt—if that’s the right word.”
Neff looked at him apprehensively. “Cal doesn’t get scared. He’s holding something back.”
70
I think and think for months and years. Ninety-nine times, the conclusion is false. The hundredth time I am right.
—Albert Einstein
Madison nudged the slightly ajar pod door. It quietly swung inward at her touch. Brian and Melissa saw one of her familiar, impish grins forming. She looked back at them and put a finger to her lips. The three of them slipped quietly into Kamran’s room, undetected. Kamran was seated in front of his computer, headphones on, jerkily bobbing his head to a tune only he could hear. Melissa had to suppress a laugh at the air drummer performance.
They looked around, unable to discern any of the features common to their own room—to all the pods. Clothes were everywhere, seemingly hung at all heights by magic on fixtures invisible to the eye. They couldn’t tell whether the clothes were dirty or clean. Dirty dishes seemed to occupy every flat surface. Kamran had even taken books off the shelves to make room for more dishes.
“Needs a woman’s touch,” Brian said to Melissa.
“More like a Hazmat team.”
“Or a flamethrower.” Madison shook her head. “Watch where you step.”
She carefully picked her way through the mess to tap Kamran on the shoulder. He turned around with a start, at first looking annoyed, but then catching himself. Melissa watched him closely as he began to sign to Madison. It was clear, at least to the women at Miqlat, that the young man was attracted to Madison. She was the most proficient person in sign language at Miqlat. The two of them seemed to be together constantly. That had changed now that Cal was present at Miqlat, and everyone knew it would be a hard adjustment for Kamran. The past several days had already produced a few awkward moments.
“I’ll make it up to you,” they heard her say. “We’ll play some HALO tonight, just you and me.” He nodded and then turned toward company, waving Brian and Melissa closer. Madison looked at them sheepishly.
Kamran quickly navigated through some windows on his computer screen, which was inordinately large, but perfect for his kind of work. He signed again to Madison, who watched in concentration.
“Kamran wants to know if you read through the material he gave you on the flash a while back, and if it answered your questions.”
“I did,” Brian answered, looking at him, “and I don’t have any more questions. The article on Herodian chronology and numismatics resolved my concerns about the 3 BC birth date.”
Kamran nodded his approval. He turned to Madison.
“He says he can proceed then.”
“With what?” Brian asked. “Does you have something else to show us? Is that why you asked us to come?”
Kamran nodded and turned to his screen. He hit a few keystrokes and then looked back over his shoulder, beckoning them to watch. He did the same to Madison, with a look that sought approval.
The three of them peered at the screen. At first glance it looked only like a smattering of small white dots against a black background. A few astronomical terms in two of the corners made it clear, though, that they were looking at the night sky. Kamran pointed to one of the corners, which read “September 11, 3 BC.” He signed to Madison again.
“He says watch the screen. He’s made a video. He says pay attention to the constellations and the sun and the moon.”
“We’ll try,” said Brian.
Kamran clicked his mouse, and the screen began to move. The outlines of constellations they recognized from his earlier presentation faded into view, as did the sun and moon, the planet Jupiter, and the star Regulus, all conveniently labeled. Kamran pointed to another corner as the constellations began to move along the visible ecliptic line that marked their course. At the tip of his finger was a counter marking the year, month, and day. It began to progress forward in time, gaining speed. The scene began to resemble an animation of an atom, where the circular paths of electrons are simulated. Kamran tapped Madison on the arm and signed once more.
“He wants to explain.” She kept watching his hands. “He’s made this video to show us the next time
that all of the celestial objects and their positions present at the birth of Jesus will be in those same positions again.”
She waited for him to continue, then resumed. “He says that some people on the Internet have done this, but they’ve accounted only for what Revelation 12 mentions—and that set of signs has been duplicated several times since 3 BC. He says that it’s important to include everything, including what isn’t listed in Revelation—things like Jupiter and Regulus, and a few other things he didn’t mention in his presentation, since they were also signs to the Gentiles about the birth. The complete set of elements is very rare. He says—”
Kamran touched her arm to interrupt. He pointed to the screen to draw their attention. The celestial whirlwind of movement slowed to a halt. Kamran adjusted the window size and then tabbed to a still image of the September 11, 3 BC sky. He positioned the window with the still image next to the scene at the end of the video. The point was obvious: The sky was the same, each labeled item accounted for. Kamran followed Brian’s eyes. He was looking at the date. He tapped Madison’s arm again.
“Kamran thinks that if the Colonel is going to try to fake something about Jesus, he’ll do it on this date or leading up to it—maybe a faked messianic birth or a return—”
Kamran interrupted Madison once more. She watched carefully and nodded. “He says all that assumes that the Colonel is working with astronomy and—this is crucial—it assumes he follows all the elements. If the Colonel’s astronomy is imprecise and only following Revelation 12, the dates for us to watch will be different by years.”
“I understand, but I’m not sure why that’s significant,” Brian confessed.
Madison took note of his answer. “It means that if the Colonel screws up the astronomy, it may create a weakness in the myth he’ll create for public consumption. We’ll just have to wait to see if the Colonel is following some sort of astronomical timeline.”
Kamran clapped enthusiastically.
Brian smiled. “It’s like Kamran’s bugged the Colonel.”
Kamran nodded with a grin.
“I like it. But,” Brian added, becoming more serious, “we don’t know that the signs of the birth have anything to do with the second coming. There’s no scriptural comment specific to that. We don’t know if the sign of the Son of Man’s appearing in Matthew 24:30 is the repetition of the birth signs or something else.”
Kamran’s hands flew into a response. “He says that’s true, but it misses the biggest point. If the Colonel wants to use signs in the sky to create his myth, it doesn’t matter if the New Testament is clear. He will just convince people that the sign of the Son of Man is the event he has planned.”
Brian stood up straight and sighed. “Yeah, I follow. That sounds like something he’d do.”
“Well, we’ve got a good bit of time to find out,” Melissa replied. “But I’m sure the Colonel will be busy until then.”
“And what can we do about it,” Brian asked, “other than watch it happen? Just like he told me I’d be doing.”
Madison’s phone beeped. She pulled it from the holder on her belt. Melissa wanted to tease her about being away from Cal too long, but she held her tongue.
“Hmm,” Madison said as she read the text message. “Mom says she has an update. She wants everyone in the Pit, pronto.”
71
The efficiency of God may be understood as either creation or providence.
—William Ames
Everyone was waiting for Brian and Melissa when they emerged from the hallway leading to the familiar center of Miqlat. Kamran and Madison had run ahead, sensing the urgency of Clarise’s message. They were all gathered around the large wooden table.
“Sorry everyone,” Melissa apologized, a little out of breath. “This is about as speedy as it gets.”
“Hear you go.” Fern had a seat waiting for her.
“Is this about the thu—” Brian caught himself mid-question upon receiving a quick pinch from Melissa. He looked at her and saw her eyes quickly dart in the direction of Summit, who was seated between Clarise and Nili. Squish’s angular, feline face was peeking just above the table surface.
Brian took the hint and rephrased his question. “Is this about … what Cal brought with him?”
Clarise looked up from a small stack of papers she’d been flipping through. She nodded, the put down the paper she was holding. “I’ll cut to the chase. We learned earlier that the printout Brian and Melissa brought with them out of Area 51 was the genetic profile for Dee’s baby.”
Cal suddenly leaned forward. “Did you just say—”
“Later,” Madison cut him off. “I’ll catch you up.”
“Go on,” Neff urged.
“Well, I’ve tested the … specimen … Cal brought with him,” Clarise continued. “The Colonel’s DNA is distinct from both Dee’s and her baby’s.”
“Did you suspect it might match?” Malcolm asked, surprised.
“At this point, I suspect everything,” she replied.
“Is there any genetic relationship between any of them?”
“No, there’s no familial relationship. However, the Colonel’s DNA has an anomaly and some biological … enhancement.”
“There’d have to be, given there was no blood,” Cal said. He glanced at Summit, choosing his words carefully. “So how could he just … do what he did?”
“I don’t know why he didn’t experience any pain,” Clarise offered, “but the specimen had no blood because, apparently, the Colonel has no blood.”
“How can he be alive, then?” Neff exclaimed.
“That’s the obvious question,” she replied. “Blood serves dozens of purposes in the human body. Sure, it carries oxygen, but it also carries all sorts of cells through the body to deliver nutrients or, say, to carry a chemical injected into the bloodstream as a curative. It carries hormones to the kidneys for cleansing and excretion. It’s absolutely essential for human life—at least life as we know it.”
“So he’s human, but not human?” Malone wrinkled his brow, his mustache unsuccessfully camouflaging a skeptical smirk.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Clarise answered. “His DNA is human. But his DNA results show that he’s missing something called the MLL gene. That gene is necessary for the development of stem cells that generate blood cells.”
“So his body can’t produce blood?” Neff asked in amazement.
“If the MLL gene is absent, even basic blood stem cells can’t be generated. In known instances of this sort of thing—as in mutation—the absence causes a rare and fatal form of leukemia.”
“So how is he alive?” Ward wondered.
“That’s where the enhancement comes in—at least as far as I can guess. If you don’t have blood, other mechanisms have to carry out the functions of blood.”
“It just sounds impossible,” Neff said. “Are there really alternatives?”
“Just some theoretical proposals.”
“We learned last summer at Area 51 that the line between theory and fact is more blurry that most people realize,” Brian added.
“Like what?” Cal asked Clarise, while casting another stunned look in Brian’s direction.
“Well, you told me that there was no fluid evident in the specimen, right?”
He nodded.
“Given our history with the Colonel’s technology, I decided to look at the literature on nanotechnology substitutes for blood function. There are nanotechnology options on the board, but all of the options I’ve read about would still produce a fluid.”
“So what’s left?” Malcolm asked.
“I think we’re still dealing with nanotechnology, but combined with the synthetic biology the Colonel was bragging about. In theory—and we seem to keep running into things that make that phrase ironic—if all your body’s organs could manufacture all the chemistry they needed precisely when and where they needed it, you wouldn’t need blood. If your body needed some item normally carried by blood flow, an
d you had nanobots inside you that monitored that need and then produced the necessary item, then you wouldn’t need a bloodstream.”
“That’s science fiction,” Madison objected. She gestured at Kamran. “That was him talking.”
Clarise surveyed the rest of their faces. “I came across some very advanced concepts in nanotechnology that I think could apply to what we have here,” she continued. “I’m not saying they apply completely to the Colonel, but conceptually the ideas fit. Anyone ever heard of Ray Kurzweil?”
“Sure,” Madison piped up. “He’s a god to anyone working in artificial intelligence.”
“It’s not nice to call other people God,” Summit piped up with a detached air, reaching for one of Clarise’s papers that had caught her attention.
“Just take one,” Clarise directed.
Madison looked ready to correct her but saw a mildly scolding expression on Nili’s face.
“Sorry, Summit,” she apologized. “You’re right.” The pink-haired girl said nothing, already absorbed by moving Squish’s paws over the paper, as though the cat was analyzing it.
“Anyway,” Madison sighed, “I’ve read lots of Kurzweil’s stuff. Is the Colonel some sort of cyborg?”
“That’s the part I don’t know,” Clarise replied. “The Colonel’s body is a human body, but it’s well beyond that.”
“What’s the Kurzweil angle?” Malcolm asked.
“I found an article on his website by a guy named Robert Freitas, a specialist in nanomedicine. Freitas has a theory—along with a full set of specifications—for something he calls a ‘vasculoid,’ by which he means a machine that fulfills all the body’s vascular functions. In a nutshell, it would replace human blood with 500 trillion nanobots that coat the entire vascular system—anything that carries or absorbs blood and other fluids and chemicals. The nanobots would not only do simple things like carry oxygen, they would ‘live’ where they’re needed. They’d effectively make the body immune from disease and aging, and even fix bodily trauma. We’ve seen that part work with our own eyes.”
The Portent Page 46